Budapest
by AvengersIsLife
Summary: I don't know who he is, but I do know that's he's handy with a bow, and that he's trying to kill me.
1. Chapter 1

The stairs creaked as I move slowly up the circular staircase. I pause and adjust myself, trying to make as little noise as possible. I know that with his hi-tech machines, if I'm not on my game, he'll know I'm coming from a mile out. After being paid off by Laramout, my current handler, I tracked down his movements, which led me to this abandoned lighthouse. Supposedly, he was inside, unaware of me tailing him.

As the outline of a door materializes in front of me, I pull out my gun, and then carefully ease open the door half an inch. My face becomes slightly illuminated, but another shadow falls across my line of vision. It's a man's shadow, but he doesn't seem to notice the opening I made in the doorway. A contraption stands erect in the corner, whizzing and blinking. As I step forward into the room, daring to make my move, my ankles cross a laser beam. Somewhere in the room an alarm begins to ring, and I curse quietly in Russian. He turned around, and I watch as the panic rises in his eyes, along with something else.

"Hullo, Viktor," I say, stepping fully into the light coming from the machine.

"The famous Black Widow," he replied with a sneer.

Even though he tried to sound calm and in control, a sweat bead begins to fall from his brow. His brown wavy hair is misshapen, and sticks up in weird places, almost as if he tried to pull it out. He looks exhausted, like he hasn't had a good sleep in at least a week.

"I have been waiting for you. You have been very good at avoiding my traps all through Surrey."

Uh oh. Not good. That's what shone brightly in his eyes when I entered the room. _Expectation._

"Oh? How did you know it was me? I thought I dodged most of your trip wires and alarm lasers."

I make sure not to place too much care on my words, but I watch him for certain signs; a slight twitch in his muscles, an increase in perspiration. I know I can't let him know how curious I am that he knew my movements; that would provide him with leverage. He doesn't give a reaction to my statement, but his eyes flick over towards his laptop.

"I don't wish to reveal my source, for fear of, ah, _execution_."

He said this just as carelessly as I did, but a shadow crosses his face.

"Now I have a question for you. Who sent you?" he asked, unable to hide the interest in his voice.

"Sorry, I don't want to reveal my source for, what was it? Fear of execution?"

I move slowly towards him, trying to get close enough to make him feel intimidated. Too close. His hand moved behind him, faster than I could react, to slam down on a lever, opening the wall behind him. Out march a few of his robot drones. I knew that he created these, and that was actually the reason why Laramout had sent me on this mission; to steal the information on how to create a robot army. The drones grab my gun, then pin me against the wall. I'm trapped, or at least he thinks I am.

"You're not as quick or as silent as I have heard! The rumors say that you can be faster and quieter than a mouse! Perhaps I need to tune in more to Russian chatter."

Of course I could have taken him and his drones down in a second, but I'm still curious as to how he knew I was coming. Only Laramout was supposed to know. Viktor grabbed some ropes and tied me to a pole in the middle of the room. Yeah. Sure. Tie up the world's most dangerous spy with a foot of rope. I had to physically restrain myself from rolling my eyes.

"You see my new machine here? It's one of my finest inventions."

He waved his hand towards the whirring and flashing contraption.

"It makes my robots. Sort of like an assembly line."

As he told me this, Viktor took out a rolled up piece of black leather. I saw a glimmer of metal, but it was soon blocked as Viktor turned his back on me.

"Whoever sent you," he said, turning again to face me. "Tell them they cannot have my inventions. Tell them that I will personally make sure that this information does not get into the wrong hands. I am going to send it to America, where, maybe, they will be able to use this technology to defeat murderers like you."

"So I guess you will be the first murderer America comes after?" I ask, struggling silently against the ropes.

"Now, now, now, don't be like that. The first person to be killed should be you! I have not killed anyone. Just, caused them a lot of pain..."

He paused, apparently reminiscing about the many types of torture he had experimented with.

"So, tell your employer, that there is no way possible that he or she will get their horrible little hands on this," he replied, patting his machine.

"How do you know that I'm not working for someone good?" I suggest.

I finally break the rope by sawing through it with my fingernails, but I keep hold of it, not wishing to make my move just yet.

"Because! You are the famous Black Widow, are you not? Natasha Romanoff? Notorious worker with Ivan Peniski of the Red Room? Ivan, who was a mass murderer? Ivan, who killed a thousand people in a day, just by setting a hospital on fire? By which I heard you had a hand in. Didn't you help him set it ablaze, when you were only eight years old? How could you not be a killer? Your leader, being what he was!" Viktor exclaimed.

"I suppose you know how he died then?" I ask quietly.

If he knows this, then I can narrow down my suspects as to who betrayed me.

"Well, he was blown up, wasn't he? By some organization called the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division. He was causing a big threat to the world, kind of like you are today."

With this, he turned, and grabbed a scary-looking instrument from behind him.

"Like this? It is a nerve dysfunctioner. It causes severe nerve pain for a full minute. It is agonizing. I think you'll enjoy it; I made it myself."

I made my decision quickly. Viktor knew the truth of my leader's death, and knew that that organization was involved. Only those in the top ranks of the Red Room knew that information. I had to act now.

I watched as he moved forward, and then I blurted out "If you plan on selling those things to the Americans, and you plan on being good, why hurt me? Aren't you trying to do better with your sorry life?"

"My, you _are_ desperate. I plan on making a lot of money off of those drones, and not selling them to your people will be the best decision of my life! Why join the losing side?"

As he moved towards me again, I grin, and whisper "What makes you think we're losing?"

I tear the remnants of the ropes from my hands, then place a swift kick at his wrist, knocking the nerve dysfunctioner out of his hands, and send a punch towards his ribs. He trips, falling back onto the floor, having had the wind blown out of him. His robots move forward, attempting to restrain me, but with a few jabs and kicks, I knock out their computer systems. Behind me, Viktor grabbed his nerve dysfunctioner, and before I can react, he stabs it into my leg.

The pain travels faster than I could ever move. I fall down, whimpering in agony. Even through my streaming eyes, I can still see the outline of Viktor standing above me, leering. Just through my pleading noises I can hear him laugh softly.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Not nearly enough," I barely get out.

I'd been tortured a _billion times_ in my life, and the nerve dysfunctioner wasn't anywhere close to the worst pain I'd felt. I laugh as I kick him squarely in the jaw, grab the counter, and then pull myself up. Viktor comes at my again, but with a quick sweep, I take his legs out from underneath him. My eyes land on my gun on the floor, but as I lunge for it, my pain redoubles. I whip around, searching for the source of my misery. Viktor had stabbed me again with the nerve dysfunctioner.

My hands miraculously find the gun, and I turn, shooting him twice in the forehead. The first thing I register is a ringing noise, then it slowly fades back to the whirring of the machines. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. As the pain ebbs, I slowly get back on my feet, stumbling over to his laptop, avoiding the pool of blood gushing from his head. The laptop required a password for entrance, but with a few tries I get in using the word 'Machine.'

I go to his e-mail, and discover a message sent from an address encrypted by numbers. I sneer at the screen; like this would stop me. Within a couple of seconds, I unraveled the encoded numbers, and found the address of the message that announced I was on his tail. I stare numbly, disbelief rooting me to my spot. It was sent from Laramout's office. I'd been sold out by my own employer.

I'd been working for the Red Room for as long as I could remember, and considered the people who worked there my family. So I had to admit, getting sold out by my handler hurt a little. But then again, shouldn't I have seen this coming? Wasn't I openly opposed to the new way the Red Room was being run? Since Yelena had taken over, everything had gone downhill; we had been ordered to kill without reason, not that this was unusual, but I was suddenly aware of how... _inhumane _things had become.

"Besides," I said, trying to convince myself, speaking aloud. "I never trusted Laramout in the first place." Not since Ivan had died anyways.

I imagine different ways of getting back at Laramout as I grab the plans for the robot machine, re-stock my gun, shut the laptop, and begin to move to the door. I realized I shouldn't have shut the laptop the moment I turn around. A button lights up, and I hear a siren go off over the whirring of the machine. The room explodes and I'm knocked backwards down the stairs before I can blink. The windows shatter, and spray me with flecks of glass shards. I hear a few more explosions, then the ceiling falls in, and I'm knocked unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sir, she got away."

"Then find her Agent Barton."

"It's not that easy. Agent Coulson is here, and even he can't tell where she was headed to."

"She is becoming a major threat to the world! She has been hired to kill twelve people in the last month. Find her."

"Right. Because hanging up on me will make me even happier about trying to find a needle in a haystack."

Agent Barton slipped his phone in his pocket and walked over to the multiple people sifting through the ruins.

"Fury isn't happy. You find anything yet, Coulson?" he asked one of the people poking at the rubble.

"Well, this might help," replied Agent Coulson.

He held up a laptop that was still smoldering, but it looked somewhat intact.

"Looks like this is what caused the bomb to go off. Viktor must have set a security system up on his laptop and when it didn't recognize him, it caused the bomb to go off. Most of the information is still here though. We should be able to get an idea as to what she was looking for on here."

"Good," said Agent Barton. "That should brighten Fury's day."


	3. Chapter 3

I awake starring up at the stars. They're twinkling down at me, smiling. I almost grin back, and then I hear the rumbling of a truck drawing nearer. My brain pulls me back to earth, so I sigh, then begin to crawl out of the debris. My leg is trapped under a metal beam, and by the time I free it, the truck has pulled up and parked right beside me. I barely move an inch, trying not to make a sound, causing me to hold my breathe. The rubble from the explosion, mixed with the smoke, and the fact that it is now dark is what keeps me hidden.

I watch as more trucks and cars arrive, bringing tools for digging in the debris. They put up huge lights that illuminate the scene. I see the symbol on their cars and equipment. It's a bird, with words written around the edges. I recognize the symbol from somewhere, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Whatever it's from, the sight of it makes me extremely uneasy.

I wait until they start searching in the silt, and then make a split second decision. With a huge burst of speed, I throw myself from the pile, somehow freeing my leg, and then I sprint off into an opening in the circle of cars.

I can see trees on the horizon, at least a mile off. There are shouts and exclamations of surprise, and one man actually tries to make a grab for me. I dodge him easily, and keep running, knowing that if I stop, I will be caught.

I was only about a hundred meters from the tree line, when an arrow went whizzing past me. If I hadn't adjusted myself right before I heard the 'twang' of a bow, I would be down on the ground with an arrow in my shoulder. Whoever was shooting, they were definitely an expert marksman; I put in a couple of twists and flips into my sprint, trying to throw them off, but each time, the arrow only just misses me. I keep moving around, tiring myself out, trying my best to avoid getting hit. I make it to the shade of the trees, and turn, to see the last arrow pierce the trunk beside me.

"Missed!" I call jokingly.

I grab the arrow, snap it in half, then turn, facing the forest again, glad to disappear into the darkness where I belong.


	4. Chapter 4

Clint Barton couldn't hide his cocky smile as he dialed the phone number. He'd just been shown up by that stupid Russian spy. He'd never missed before, so after his experience with her, he was very excited to get on her case and take her down.

"This better be good Agent Barton."

"Oh, it is sir. We recovered a laptop. We've decoded the information on it, and found out some e-mails she looked at were sent by some place in Sao Paulo, Brazil. We think that's where she's headed."

"Then get down there. By the way, did I hear you got your ass whooped by the Black Widow last night Barton?"

Director Fury savored the uncomfortable silence; Barton was a renowned trouble maker with a head that grew larger every day, so it was good when someone put him down.

"Who told you?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"It was Coulson, wasn't it?"

"Get the job done Barton. I need her taken care of."

"It was Coulson. And we should have this wrapped up in a few days. You care to join us in Sao Paulo?"

"You know, I just might. Goodbye Agent Barton."

"Sir."

Barton turned to Coulson, who was standing nearby, speaking to a few tech agents who had helped decode the laptop.

"Coulson. We got the go ahead. We're headed to Brazil."

"Sounds good."

He turned to the small crowd of people nearby, then shouted "Wheels up in five everyone!"


	5. Chapter 5

"Flight 348 is now arriving from Surrey, England."

I grab my bags from the luggage rack, glance around, and then exit the plane. Sao Paulo, Brazil is very hot and very dry. I put on my black sunglasses, put my head down, and keep walking; out of the airport, and onto the road.

Laramout's main office is in the heart of the city, but I don't want to head there just yet. It would be better to think out my plan before acting. I catch a taxi to a hotel a few miles out of the city. I booked a penthouse with a balcony on the top floor for a week, not knowing how long my plan was going to take to carry out.

When I enter my room, I take in the magnificent view. The shoreline is just visible through my window in the hotel, and the buildings around look beautiful in the afternoon light. I pull open the doors, breathing in the deep salty smell. The wind whips about me, and sea gulls chirp over head. I sigh deeply, then return to my room. I sweep over it, looking for any bugs or cameras, as well as stashing a few weapons around the room. I check over what little gear I have, then throw myself onto the soft bed... thinking.

I try to form a plan for meeting Laramout, guessing that by now he knows that I'm in town. He's good at that. Keeping tabs on people who are a threat to him. Too bad that it was his own fault that I was now against him.

The first full day I stay at the hotel, I notice a man standing outside, underneath the balcony. He keeps looking up at it, like he is expecting to see me, but after my first venture out, I stay inside, avoiding his vision. I am pretty sure that he is one of Laramout's, but he is wearing a suit and tie, not really Laramout's style; he prefers leather jackets and boots with knives concealed in the toe.

While observing the man below me, I see a shadow on the roof, but the moment I try to focus in on it, the shape disappears.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll take the roof."

"I'll cover the balcony from the ground. Keep a watch out," Agent Coulson called to Agent Barton, scowling as he watched Barton break into the building next to the hotel, shattering a window to get inside.

Clint Barton climbed the stairs to the roof, and positioned himself across from the highest balcony. He watched as a woman with fiery red hair appeared in the window. It was his first good glimpse at her, and he had to admit; she was stunning.

"Coulson. She is in the top balcony. I think we should keep a watch on her at all times. We need to find out what she is planning on doing before we move in. There may be others of her kind around. We still don't know who she's working with, or what they're capable of."

"Thanks for keeping me posted, Director Barton. Seriously though, keep spewing out orders like that, and people might get confused as to who is really running this organization."

"Ha, ha, Coulson. You're _so _funny."

"Love your sarcasm Clint. I'm going to put two men in front of the hotel just in case. I'd like to see her get out of this one."


	7. Chapter 7

On my third day of being stuck in limbo inside the hotel, I decide to head down to the ocean, to see if the man outside would follow me if I leave. I change into a bathing suit that I had bought in the hotel's shop; It's a two piece, with a red top and black bottom.

When I step out of the hotel's front doors, I spy two more men in black suits and ties. They pretend not to notice me, but I see them watching out of the corner of their eyes. I walk up the street that leads to the beach, then take a turn onto a parallel busy road. I see the men's reflections in the shop windows, following behind me all the way up the street. However, once I hit the sand, they disappear.

"Weird," I mutter to myself.

I walk along the beach, taking in the beautiful sounds and sights. I stretch out my towel in front of an old wooden building, covered in ivy and weeds. I lie down, take a deep breath, and drink in the bright sunlight and the sound of the waves. Sea gulls fly overhead, their cries drowned out by the rushing waves, as well as the small building creaking as the wind blew through it. There was some sand being kicked up, but I didn't mind.

After an hour of reviewing my plans, I decide that tomorrow I will enter Laramout's headquarters. I know his office is in an old apartment building, but I had only been there once, when he brought me in to give me the assignment to kill Viktor and steal the plans. He had taken me by force, in the middle of another mission, brought me there, and gave me instructions on what to do and where to go. I left, caught a plane to Surrey, and went on from there.

My objective is to walk in with the plans, but also walk out with them. I want payback at Laramout for giving me away; I want to flaunt my success in his face, show him I don't care, and I know exactly how to do it, but for now, I push aside the plans, stand up, and walk to the ocean.

I wade in, about waste deep. I move around in the soft sand, watching the sea bed. It's a clear day, and the water is like crystal. A few shells lay in my path, and I pick a few of them up and examine them. As I reach for a particularly interesting navy blue oyster shell, I feel a presence. I knew that there was a couple far up the beach, but I would have seen and heard them approach me. This was far too professional.

I freeze, ridged as a board, make a split second decision to drop my shells, then plunge into the Luke-warm water. An arrow whizzes past me as I submerge. I hear it hit the water, making a strange sound. I kick and push as hard as I can away from where I went under, but because the water is so clear, the shooter has a very good chance to hit me, especially if it's the sharp shooter archer I experienced earlier.

After a while, when I can no longer hold my breath, I feel arrows pierce the water around me. None reach their target, which is extremely hard to believe, because this man is evidently the expert marksman. I re-surface and do a quick check of my surroundings. My assailant is about 50 yards off, reloading his bow. As he releases the string, I dive, not completely underwater, but enough to get out of the way. I get a quick sight of his face though.

He has short, brownish blonde hair, and is very muscular. He is wearing a black suit, not unlike the one I wear when I get sent on missions. His stormy green-grey eyes find my dark green ones, and I am taken aback at how serious he is. He means to kill me.

After I get back on my feet, I take off running to my towel and bag on the beach. Arrows fly past me, still not hitting their intended target. I grab my bag on the run, leaving my towel half buried in the sand. I make for the old wooden building covered in the ivy and weeds. It looks highly unstable, but it's my only chance for shelter.

When I kick open the door, a rotten, dead, smell fills my nose. I choke a little, but keep going. I climb a sagging staircase, to a dark and dank hallway. The floor of the hallway has caved in partially, but with a few swift jumps, I'm able to clear it easily.

After making it safely to the end of the hallway, I turn around and find him hopping over the holes as easily as I did. Cursing in Russian, I lunge up another set of stairs that leads to the roof. Here, there are even bigger sections of wood missing, as well as ivy that threatens to trip you at every turn. I skip over the holes to the very edge of the building and turn to face my archer assailant.

He had just climbed the stairs, and I feel uneasy as his eyes take in the surrounding roof. He has a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder with another strapped to his leg, and a recurve bow in his left hand.

"You're good," I tell him.

"You've been better. Until now," he replies.

In a flash he fits an arrow to his bow and releases it, but I react quicker. In an instant, I leap over the holes, and am right next to him before he can reload. I grab the bow, but he holds on to the string. I kick him in the ribs, and he replies with a punch in the face.

"Funny, I didn't take you as the type of guy to hit a girl," I leer at him, wiping blood from my nose.

"You lost all sense of humanity to me when you started killing people for fun," he responds.

I twist the bow, causing the string to break in his hand. I pull away, still clasping the bow. He pulls out a knife from a pocket in his pants leg. I swing the bow at him, and he lunges with the knife. I hit him with the bow across the back of his neck, and he takes a swipe at my ankles, but I jump over his back, causing him to fall forward onto his chest. He rolls over on his back, nearly falling into a hole. I pin him to the ground with my knees on either side of him.

"Who are you working for?" I ask, banging his head on the wood.

He spits in my face, so I bang his head again.

"Who are you working for?" I ask more urgently.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he laughs.

I grab his knife from his hand and place it against his throat. His expression changes as soon as he feels the blade. He begins to squirm against my hold. I bang his head yet again.

"Stop struggling against me. It will just make things worse," I tell him.

I hear a slight movement from behind me, but it doesn't register as a threat.

"They just got worse. For you."

His eyes aren't focused on me anymore, but on something directly behind me.

"Drop the knife, and move away from Agent Barton," came a deep voice.

"Friend of yours, Agent Barton?" I whisper in his ear.

I turn quickly and catch a glimpse of a tall, African American man wearing all black, including a long, black, leather overcoat. It's not the fact that he is wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jacket in 90 degree weather that makes him interesting, it's the fact that he has an eye patch over his left eye. He points a gun at me, but before he can pull the trigger, I roll over into one of the holes in the roof, and fall onto the hallway floor. From here I rush out of the front door and onto the sand. I don't stop running until I reach the hotel doors.


	8. Chapter 8

"Director Fury, Barton is on lookout in one of the higher buildings. You know how he likes high places."

"Good, we could use an eye in the sky right now. I should be there in about twenty minutes. Remember that this is a kill order. It doesn't matter if she has friends, at least, not for now. We need her dead. The council is getting ancy; the Harlem incident isn't sitting well with them."

"Copy that. Sir, target is leaving the hotel. She seems to be headed to the beach."

"Follow her Coulson."

"We're on it sir."

Agent Coulson sighed as he hung up on Fury, and then began to radio in to Agent Barton. He knew that this Black Widow assassin needed to die, but he hated taking another person's life.

"This is a kill order Agent Barton. She has become too much of a problem to deal with. These are director orders from Director Fury himself, as well as the World Security Council."

"Okay. I'll get down there as soon as I can."

Agent Barton unpacked his bow and pulled out two quivers of arrows from a bag. He then climbed back down through the old building, and back onto the street, where he smiled as a woman with red hair disappeared around the corner.

"Call off the men Coulson. She's mine," he whispers.

Agent Barton followed this woman all the way to the beach, but then hung back in the shadows of an alleyway, watching her. He waits as she pulls out something from her bag, examines it, and then takes to the water.

"Barton, Director Fury has just arrived. He wants to know if you need assistance."

"She's got a bag Coulson, with what looked like plans inside. I am going to try and steal it without her noticing, but I don't think it will work. Get Fury down here as soon as possible. I don't think this will be easy."

"He just arrived, so I will send him down."

With his target now focused on the ocean, Agent Barton walked slowly up to the beach towel and the bag. He hadn't gotten within twenty meters when the woman freezes, and then dives into the water.

Agent Barton shot arrow, after arrow, _after arrow,_ into the dark shape now swimming away from him. None hit their mark, but as she came up for air, he sends one directly at her chest. She dives, and then turns, running up the beach to an old wooden house.

"Agent Barton!" someone calls.

Barton whips around to see a man wearing an eye patch and a black overcoat running towards him.

"Go after her. I'll meet you at the top."


End file.
